


You're Still A Child And Yet

by CravenWyvern



Series: DS Extras [1]
Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: AU Where Abigail Is The Older Sister, AU building, Animal Death, Blood, Butterflies, Character Death, Death, First Chapter Is All Dialogue, Flowers, Gen, Kind of AU, Mentions of Animal Death/Abuse, Mentions of Maxwell, Spider Communication Through Song And Dance, Spider Queen - Freeform, Spiders, hounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-09-25 04:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9803216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CravenWyvern/pseuds/CravenWyvern
Summary: Wendy Carter is just a child. In a much better position than poor dear Webber, but her friend was happy no matter what they ended up with.So why wasn't she?





	1. I Say Hello, You Say Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A backstory told in words, not actions.

Look, look at what I made!

“Oh, that's wonderful Wendy! You should show Mother, she would like it!”

…but I made it for you.

“Well, we can still show her, right? I'll wear it afterwards, okay?”

…okay.

“And look, I'll make one for you too! So we'll both have one in our hair, made by each other. Mother will see how pretty we are then, right?”

Maybe…

“…Don't worry Wendy. Things will work out. Now, how did you make it? And where did you even get the supplies? I want to make sure the one I make you looks just as good as the one you made for me.”

~~~

“…You're room stinks again. You should really clean it before Mother finds out.”

She never comes in here, why should I?

“Wendy…”

…

“What was it this time? A mouse? Gopher? Or maybe a rabbit?”

…Two squirrels. They're under the bed.

“…How did you even catch them? Really Wendy, you need to stop this, you know how Mother feels about animals, I-“

…

“…You can't keep doing this, you know. She'll find out.”

What can she do about it if she does? Send me off to boarding school?

“…More like an institution, I think. At least don’t do this in your room, it stinks it up and…this is just a mess, why put them under your bed?”

…I don't know…

“Well, help me find a garbage bag. I'll help you clean this up, though you need to stop bringing them in here. Or, at least not under your bed. A shoebox should work just fine, then you can just throw it away when you're finished with them. Come on, lets get this done before Mother finds me.”

What does she want now?

“Wants me to ask someone out for the prom. Adult stuff, nothing you should care about until you get older. Now lets clean this mess up, and quickly.”

~~~

What was all the shouting about?

“Nothing, nothing important. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

I couldn’t sleep…

“Another nightmare?”

…

“It's okay if you have bad dreams. Everyone gets them, you know.”

I bet Mother does not get them.

“…Don't assume such things. Adults get bad dreams just like little girls. Now come on, we shouldn’t stay in the hallway. She'll be coming out soon enough and you need to get to bed.”

…You're not going to leave, are you?

“..Oh, someday I will. It's what happens when you grow up, you leave the nest and all that.”

…

“Don't worry, I wont leave you here. I'll have enough money to get a nice place, and you can go to a real school and have real doctors and be happy for once in your life-!”

…She made you really angry this time.

“It's…it's okay. You're too young to understand, but it'll be alright. I'll make it right; all you have to do is wait, okay?”

…Okay.

“Now go to bed. The…tutor will be here tomorrow, first day of school and all. I wont be home for awhile, hitting the pavement, and Mother will be back later tomorrow night, but you can handle that, right?”

…You're looking for a job? What happened to the last one?

“Just lost it, that's all. Now goodnight, I'll see you tomorrow.”

~~~

“Hey.”

…You don’t sound that good. Is everything alright?

“…Yeah, just…just lost another job, that's all.”

Why?

“I…Wendy, did you know it's really, really hard, being an adult? Even though I'm supposed to have full control of my life now, guess what? No one cares. A company far, far away can make a decision that affects someone like me living in the middle of nowhere.”

…

“I lost my job because of a management change and the decision to move stores elsewhere. And just the general employee cuts, because, you know, who would you rather hire, someone living close by or me, a few miles away from town?”

…I am not a company manager, but I'd hire you.

“…Thanks…Alright, just forget about it. I'll find something better. Now, tell me about your day! I've heard you are really good at hide n seek?”

…I was in the basement, behind the stairs.

“You know she doesn’t like the basement.”

Yes. She was quite rude today.

“What did she do this time?”

She…she didn’t want me to play outside. I did anyways. And…

“…If you want to know, she's already told me her side. It…doesn’t sound pleasant.”

I was keeping one of the rats in the woods, not in my room. Like you told me to…She shouldn’t have followed me.

“You shouldn't have gone outside against her rules.”

…She called me rude names.

“…You should be glad she doesn’t talk to Mother, only me. But, if it helps ease your mind, she's not coming back. I'll be ordering for another one before Mother finds out.”

Make sure it's a good one. Mother was never good at hiring people.

“Haha, no, I guess she isn't. I promise, I'll find a good tutor, someone who actually has a degree in education. Just remember, listening and obeying the rules is kind of important. If one of the doctors told you to not leave bed, would you listen to them?”

Yes…

“This applies to the tutors as well. They're here to teach you, so you need to listen to them, okay?”

...Okay Abigail.

~~~

“Come on Wendy, let's go.”

What's happening, where are we going? I heard you and Mother yelling-

“Not now, we need to go. I'll explain everything later.”

But what about Mother-

“Later Wendy, we need to leave now.”

…

Can you tell me now-

“No. Be quiet and let me focus on the road.”

…Abigail, what happened? You can't just say you'll tell me later, something is obviously wrong, I-

“Wendy, when I say I'll tell you later, I will tell you later-“

You're scaring me Abigail!

…

Why are we leaving?

“…Our dear mother was going to do something I…”

What was-

“Wendy she found out, okay!?”

…

“You didn’t listen to me, you didn’t keep your room clean, and she found some things that have even me worried.”

…

“You had one job, okay, and now. Well, she was really set on sending you away, and not to a boarding school. I can't let that happen. You know I can't let it happen, those places...”

…

“Look, you're going to have to take responsibility for this. I told you, I tried to help, but obviously you did not listen to a word of what I said and now we are paying the price.”

…

“If you had just. Just done what I asked of you for once, had stopped this nonsense in the beginning, then this wouldn't be happening. Some of the blame may be on me, for not acting like the adult Mother should have been, but you-…”

…

“…Wendy, can you answer just this once, with a real answer and not a ‘I don’t know’? Can you please, just tell me: why do you kill those animals? Why do you do that?”

…

“Wendy, I'm going to need an answer here. I can't….I can't just, take you away from here, to a better place, with proper care, only to have you taken away because of this, this /hobby/ of yours. Normal people don’t go around torturing small animals, Wendy, you know this, so why the hell do you do it?”

…

“…Why can't you just-“

Abigail-!

~~~

‘…So, how long have you been here now?’

…I shouldn't talk to strangers.

‘And I'm a stranger?’

…

‘Maybe I'm wrong. Here I am, thinking Wendy Carter of all people should know who I am, but I guess-‘

I've seen you on the family tree. In the long hall, near the kitchen.

‘Well, it's nice knowing I was remembered.’

…You're dead.

‘Am I though? Here I am, flesh and blood I promise, right in front of your bed. Look, I can even pick up this-‘

PUT THAT DOWN-!

‘No need to yell; don't want anyone to come and check up on you, hmm?’

Put. It. Down. Right. Now.

‘I wont break it, I promise. Someone important to you, I presume?’

…

‘Flowers for lost loved ones; you and I have much in common.’

…

‘What would you think, Wendy, if I said that you could see your dear sister again?’

Abigail is dead.

‘So says you. But then, I'm long dead, remember? So, whose to say death is Abigail’s fate? And, here's the real kicker, who can say death is your destiny either?’


	2. I Say Yes And You Say No

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flowers and butterflies take up the day.

Wendy let out a held breath, leaning back from her work. The flower she had just transplanted looked a little worn, but it should perk up in a few hours. The dirt that had gotten underneath her fingernails will be worth it after this plant started to grow again.

Abigail hovered behind her, a big weeping presence that made the air thick and filmy on the tongue. Even without looking Wendy could feel her fade, drift away quietly after such a short visit, and she made a mental note describing the butterflies as unfit substitutes to a blood creature. Her sister could not stay with her if the only thing Wendy could offer were insects.

She debated on doing another summoning, mostly because she was out here alone, but a glance around the garden made her decide not too. It was still early in the day and it seemed peaceful enough; she'd rather not go hunting for rabbits or moles. Transplanting and weeding was more on her mind.

Wendy was not too well versed in gardening, having never met anybody who had such interests, but she remembered trying it out in the past, making tiny plots and figuring out how to germinate seeds and water plants without drowning them. Of course most hadn't done that well, getting overgrown by weeds or trampled by something or her just not being able to get to it and tend the plants, but in this place she seemed to be doing quite well.

Wendy looked down at the flower she had just finished with. She didn’t know what it was, didn’t truly care, but maybe she could ask Mrs. Wickerbottom later. The older lady sure knew a lot about plants and animals, scientific names and little facts, and though she was a little dry it was nice having someone who knew so much about the world.

There was the sudden sound of steam, metal on metal slowly making its way to her and Wendy slowly stood up, brushing the dirt from her lap, and turned towards the visitor.

The automaton moved elegantly, smoothly even as its weight shifted heavily with each step and when it reached her it slid to a stop, looming over her as its sounds wheezed and then faded. The continual clicking and clacking of it didn’t stop, a ticking sound that hummed deep in its barrel chest, and it directed its head down to her, expressionless.

“What brings you here, WX78?”

Wendy kept her voice polite, face still and meeting the automatons own empty gaze, but had to squint her eyes as its eyes and mouth like opening flashed red sporadically. It shifted, just barely to adjust its weight, and leaned over her heavily.

“I REQUIRE MORE INSECTS.”

Wendy tilted her head, staring up at its downturned face.

“Didn't you visit just yesterday? I gave you a few butterflies, specifically the purple ones-“

“THEY HAVE BEEN EATEN. I REQUIRE MORE.”

Wendy blinked at it, a little confused. WX78 did not look like the sort to eat its pollinators, though she knew nothing about robotics besides a few science fiction novels and it could probably do a number of things she knew nothing of. She was just about to ask, a little hesitantly, but the automaton straightened up, turning its head towards a patch of the garden teeming with butterflies.

“A MAN CAME IN LAST EVENING AND ATE THEM. BECAUSE OF THIS I HAD TO USE MY MORNING STAR UP AND HE HAD TO USE HIS LIFE AMULET. I REQUEST A LARGER BATCH THIS TIME.”

Wendy nodded, shifting through the people she knew who could have done it as she went over to the garden chest. As she opened it, reaching for one of the nets and a small grass bag laid out neatly on the bottom, Wendy wondered if she should just ask. When she straightened up, the automaton watching her stiffly, they stared at each other for a moment before she dismissed the idea. WX78 had not brought up a name itself, so leaving the bug eater anonymous seemed for the best.

“Have you told Mrs. Wickerbottom?”

“I HAVE ALREADY TAKEN CARE OF THE PROBLEM. THERE IS NO REASON TO BRING IT UP AGAIN.”

Alright then. Wendy carefully made her way to a thicker part of the garden, slowly moving over taller plants and watching where she placed her feet. WX78 stayed where it was, looking on.

It only took a few minutes to catch the butterflies, Wendy quickly scooping up the insects and placing then gently into the grass bag. The bugs quieted easily, almost unnaturally, but it made moving them around easy and they didn’t injure themselves when traveling together. She counted fifteen of them, all purple, marking a mental list of how many she still had before she made her way back to the automaton.

She couldn’t stop the sudden small smile from her face at the sight of butterflies climbing over WX78s metal exterior, the robot still as the insects clambered up its shoulders and delicately crawled over its face. She waited patiently, feeling a little more light hearted at the sight before WX78 carefully started up again. It brushed the butterflies off, very slow and soft as the insects clung to its fingers and then finally fluttered off towards nearby flowers. It then turned to her, reaching out for the bag that she gave up readily.

Its face flickered, the neon red flashing between its dark openings, and WX78 cradled the bag gently, silent as it looked down at the confined insects. Then it was leaving, slow plodding steps with fluid ease, and Wendy was alone with the flowers and butterflies.

No ‘thank you’, but that was what usually happened. The robot was one of the most peculiar inhabitants here, or at least Wendy thought so, and it seemed to have a dislike for company of any kind.

Besides butterflies and bees, Wendy reminded herself. WX78 enjoyed those creatures well enough, and anyone messing with them had hell to pay if caught.

It was a concern that someone had to use an amulet yesterday, but it was their own fault. Everyone knew not to mess with WX78s property, especially the insects. Wendy let herself wonder who it had been, but decided to leave that for tonight in her conversations with Webber. Right now, in this bright sunshine and clear air, she still had work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still trying to figure out how to write Wendy.


	3. I Say Good, You Say Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spider queens can be managed with a dance. A cryptic mystery no one but she knows or will ever know.

“Why's Abigail not here?”

Webber chittered at the end of their sentence, mouth parts wiggling about bizarrely as their milky eyes focused on her. Wendy looked up from her work, the rabbit trap almost done in her lap. She took a moment to think a response through, her friend waiting patiently with their own half made trap in their hands. 

“…She's not Abigail.”

Webber tilted their head, the legs on the sides of their head twitching erratically. They didn’t speak for a few minutes, watching her unblinkingly but unfocused and Wendy turned her attention back to her grass trap. It felt a little loose to her, the grass a little brittle after the recent heat wave, and she decided to start over. A weak trap was no use to anyone, and they'd be needed back at camp.

“But you call her that, don't you? How do you know she isn't Abigail?”

Webber sounded confused, their voice lilted and high pitched. They had forgotten about working on their own trap, now intently focused on the conversation. Wendy sighed, resting the trap in her lap and turning her gaze to Webber. It wasn’t that she had meant for her friend to ask about the cryptic answer she had given, but it had just been an automatic answer. Abigail was not what appeared to her when she did a summoning, so Webber had been incorrect in using that name.

“Abigail likes animals.”

Webber fortunately understood what she was saying, nodding their head after a moment and thinking hard as they squinted their eyes at the fire.

“What's her name?”

This time Wendy didn't respond, just shrugged and went back to her work. Webber blinked all their eyes slowly and chirped to themselves, a light chatter in some unknown language, and then went back to weaving their own trap.

The fire in front of them blazed cheerfully, the darkness of the night blocking out the rest of the world. The silence between them was comforting, something that Wendy was always glad about.

Tomorrow they'd head back to the main camp. Mrs. Wickerbottom was going to be quite unhappy with how they'd run off like that, but a full moon had too many rare resources that came with it for Wendy to ignore. The bag full of dark flower seeds and blooms was next to her and Webber had helped catch the butterflies that had pollinated the dangerous flowers, keeping them safely nestled in their own silk bundle. 

They'd be lectured on the dangers of going out alone, but Wendy had survived by herself for quite awhile. Webber hadn't told her how long they've been here, but if she had to guess it had been much longer than both her and Mrs. Wickerbottom’s time. Her friend even knew a few things she didn't, mostly of the arachnid variety but it was useful to know about certain spider nests that would react in fear to loud noises and of nests that would take it as a challenge, or of spiders that grew friendly with odd dances or of the webs with thicker strands or stickier strings for different uses.

The trap unraveled once more and as she examined the grass strips she was using, Wendy tested the strength and flexibility of a few pieces, bending them carefully. Unfortunately they were not of good material, snapping with almost no force, and she sighed heavily. Such gifts she had thought would ease their punishment when they got back, but with these worn supplies it wasn't working out so well. And really, would a few woven traps really stop them from being grounded?

Webber had been watching her and their hiss in delight was not missed. Wendy rested her chin on her hand, leaning in a more comfortable sitting position and watching as her friend started to snap the bits of grass in their lap, breaking up the half finished trap. Their face was twisted up, mandibles twitching and clear eyes wide as they cackled to themselves, the grass bending in their clawed hands and then thrown into the fire. The puffs of flame and heat caught her attention for awhile.

It took a moment to recognize the new sound, so similar to Webbers voice and yet so different, and Wendy sat up swiftly as she realized they were not alone. Webber took longer, focused on the traps destruction, but then they glanced up at Wendy and noticed the change in mood.

The shriek was sudden, piercingly loud, and both of them were up even before the call ended, Wendy going for her spear and Webber turning to face the darkness, a low clicking noise in their throat.

She didn't do anything, waited stiff and ready as Webber clicked louder. Their actions, as well as the nature of the sound, clued her in that the intruder was an arachnid and she trusted in her friend on deciding if it was dangerous or not.

Even if the sounds of it getting closer made her nervous. It sounded rather…big.

She backed up as a shape in the darkness solidified, looked up as something with large white eyes pulled itself halfway into the fires light, Webber standing defiantly under its arching bulk. Their clicking got louder, higher pitched, and the spider above them stiffened and looked down upon them.

Then Webber started to move, the legs on their head rising up and waving side to side, their own legs mimicking the pattern, and Wendy watched the bizarre dance for a moment. Their clicking had become almost frantic, head raised and hackles stiff, and from here she could see their shoulders tremble.

The queen, for that was what it was, watched passively, still and silent. 

Then it made a sound, a gurgling hiss much higher pitched than Webbers, and the clacking sounds of many legs rose up. More eyes appeared in the darkness, a following of spiders that quickly grew larger and larger. Wendy swung around, looked out into the darkness to gauge the number of force. It was a slight relief noting that they were not surrounded, the mass grouped on one side. If they had to, running was an option.

That meant they needed portable light.

Carefully, very slowly, Wendy tried to make her way to the bag of supplies on the ground, a torch and miners helm inside with the flowers, but the sudden intake of breath and harsh gasp from Webber stopped her.

Her friend had turned their head slightly towards her, trembling hard and fur puffed up, eyes wide and mouth open as they panted for air. It took a second for her to realize they were mouthing something to her, mandibles in the way and their raised arms blocking most of their head, but they turned a little more and she guessed it quickly a moment later.

‘Don't move.’

The queen chittered suddenly, a harsh sound in the silence, and the sound of it moving was heavy and loud. Legs peeled away from the darkness, stepped slowly into the light, and Webber had to dart out of the way as one hardened leg speared into the ground they had been standing on.

The movement seemed to set something off, both from the queen and Webber, and a few spiders slowly crawled out of the darkness to accompany the Queen, thickened with black bristles and maws gaping with too many mandibles and teeth. They ignored Wendy, silent as they stuck close to the massive legs of the queen, and Webber inched away, towards their friend as they still clicked and mumbled.

Webber swiftly scooped up their bags as they passed them, grass backpack over their shoulder and bundle of butterflies in their arms. A few of the spiders turned towards their movement, white eyes glistening in the fire light, but they quickly turned their attention to the queen when she hissed loudly, allowing Webber to slide next to Wendy without any trouble.

She held the spear with white knuckled hands, staring up at the massive queen and wishing she had summoned Abigail earlier. It would have been much safer with her around, and they would have been forewarned of the spiders presence instead of startled like that.

The queen moved incredibly slowly, dragging itself to the fire, and with the spiders attention away from them for a moment Webber wrapped a clawed hand around Wendy's free hand and tugged her away into the darkness.

A couple of steps out, fuzzy shapes dissolved into the pitch black, and then Webber was flared over with light, the helm in their claws. They didn't say a thing, put a claw over their mouth when she opened hers to speak, and placed the hat onto her head silently. After that Wendy took the backpack from them and they started off into the dark, listening intently for the warning sounds of hissing and shrieks behind them that may start up.

Once they seemed far enough away, no one giving chase, the fire light completely gone and the white light of the miners hat glowing over them, Wendy finally decided to speak.

“What did they want?”

Webber was slow to answer, holding the silk bundle close to their chest and looking off into the darkness. They blinked their eyes individually, mouth parts twitching and stretching for a moment before they spoke.

“In pain. She couldn't see it and neither could her guard. Needed the light to find the injury.”

“Was she injured then?”

“No smell of blood.”

They grew silent after the exchange, mulling over their own thoughts. Wendy didn't know what to say about that, not knowing spiders enough to guess, so she kept the silence for awhile, feet crunching over dry grass and crumbly dirt.

They'd be back to camp in another few hours, probably around the time the sun was to rise. Not what she planned on doing, but it was better this than being a spider queens midnight snack.

She glanced over to Webber, to her friends concerned face and hunched back, prickled fur and slow steps.

“Thank you Webber.”

It broke them out of their deep thoughts and they turned to Wendy with something akin to a smile on their face, mandibles rising and white eyes cleared and focused. The hiss from them was incomprehensible, but they did it in a lighter tone and their legs on their head waved about for a moment, a disorientating sight but definitely a positive one.

The walk in the darkness after that was of a lighter mood, Webber almost skipping with the silk bundle of insects close to their chest and Wendy steady by their side, backpack snug on her and her face neutral but lighter in aura.


	4. I Say Forwards Yet It's Backwards I Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And that's how it'll always be.

Wendy blinked, a dull light flickering and glowing over the grass, flush light against a nearby tree in a void of darkness.

She had been somewhere else moments ago, somewhere far away, somewhere without grass or trees, desolate of green life. Boulders, sheer cliffs, she remembered, the slow red dark of evening and dusk, gold veins rising up out of rocky outcroppings and the silence, over rock and gravel and packed earth. She remembered her own steps, in dust and sand and pebbles, hands wrapped around a pickaxe, sweaty fingers in the stagnant air and the heat blazing off of cooked rock from the summer sun, lifting and slamming down the tool, looking through rubble and fragments, stuffing her pack full. She remembered clicking, soft mumbles, raised in pitches of excitement as chunks of glittery rock were held out to her, remembered talking in her own slow way, making conversation.

She remembered a spider.

But no, Wendy remembered a friend. Webber, the memory of the name and who it represented blossoming in her mind, slowly falling away like petals as the fragment faded, eased back yet stayed steady. She remembered Webber, her dear friend.

Wendy also remembered the eye, the beak, the claws, the shrill scream; she remembered the pain and blood quite clearly. She remembered Webber, spear in hand, screeching their own angry cry, of the honking as the bird turned away from her, as she watched it storm to the next intruder and leave her collapsed on rocks and dust, puddle of blood and the red flower withered and grey in her grasp.

A breeze pushed around her, brushed the grass and leaves of the tree, the air silent but not as dead as it had felt in the rocky landscape. The glow had faded somewhat, the time passing her so swiftly and yet not at all, stuck on the hour.

She must have not survived.

There was a sudden mumble of presence, muted feeling and another light was there, flickering behind her with yellows and reds and oranges, amber and bright mixed with the pale, softer glow. The steps were quiet, light on the grass, and Wendy felt nothing as she was brushed by, blinking slowly as the breeze faded away, leaving still air.

Before Wendy stood herself, torch in hand, looking this way and that in the void of the night. A hint of trembling graced the girls shoulders, yet she stayed straight backed and continued on cautiously, weaving past the tree and out into the darkness.

Wendy could feel it behind her, a bundle of soft fur and dirty paws, short glow of life leeching away into the night, a snapped neck, and the glow brightened considerably, a pale moon coloration that gracefully stretched over the grass.

Wendy followed, slowly, carefully, though her feet never touched the grass or dirt, never once made contact with the ground.

Away, in the distance and in the thick of the black abyss, the sound of hounds rose, wavering and growing in haste. Wendy could almost see them, stocky, hairy creatures of teeth and claws and black blood, and their howls graced the silence of the night with almost elegance, not breaking it but melding, as if it was meant to sound this way.

The girl before Wendy stood still, listening hard, face impassive and of stone, and then she was off at a quicker pace, torch raised high and shaking slightly in her grip, her pack bulging and heavy on her shoulders. The fire glow of it was small, spherical and the flickering concerning, but the pale shine gave the ground away, flowers passed by and trees walked around, the buzzing mumble of a nearby hive ignored and respectably distanced from.

Wendy followed behind, her own thoughts muted and dull with every nonexistent step, a phantom rope around her neck tugging her along with an insistent calling. The world became faded, colors low hues and hints of things in the grass, blurred trunks of lone trees, and yet the girl before her stayed clear cut, brightened neon colors and shine of the torch almost painfully bright.

The howl of the hounds was much closer now, so much closer, their calls longer as they found a trail, answering with barks and yelps between each other. 

The girl halted, swung her pack around suddenly, holding the torch in a shaking grasp. Wendy waited, watched as the faint glow over the girl brightened, as she dug inside the packed bags insides, the slightest line wrinkling on her forehead and her eyes wide, tight in a grey, panicky way. Out of the pack came a razor, dulled with age perhaps, and the girl gripped its wooden handle tightly, rose tall with trembling shoulders, other hand wrapped around the torch as she turned towards the direction of the monstrous cries.

Wendy felt it, felt the shifted change, and she turned along with the girl, rose herself up and felt, rather than saw, the glow of her core brightening, sweeping the grass and shadows with light, tinging at the edges with color.

The first hound lunged out of the blackness, maw open in a gaping hole and eyes wide and rolling in its sockets, and it was pierced by something else, something ethereal almost, a pale flash of a tendril, and Wendy was forward, was shining over the rest of the pack, bright and suddenly flush with an emotion, something of hers and yet not, swirls of aggression and anger and protectiveness, balled up and thus swung at each hairy dark mass, rotted flesh tainted breaths panted that she could not feel nor smell, teeth grazing her and yet not touching her at all.

The monstrous creatures fell away easily, sliding off of pure tendrils of crimson into blackened ichor puddles, the grass underfoot trampled and swept under flows of dark gelatin. Wendy felt, rather than saw, the sudden hurt on her arm, the dragging dig of knives in her flesh, blank eyes wide up at her as she lost her grip on her only defense, the sudden /tug/ of something else deep in her gut-

The hound fell away from the girl easily, a gush of black blood out of its throat and coating its canines to dribble in the grass. For a second Wendy turned, continued turning, looking, looking for that threat of violence and pain and-

Yet all the hounds were done, be they dead or having fled, and the hue of scarlet in the glow faded away, a bright, clean color that ghosted as puffs of light mist.

The girl had stumbled back to her bag, injured arm limp against her side as she raised the torch up, useless razor forgotten. Wendy followed slowly, hovering watchfully as the girl wrapped up her injured arm as best she could with the torch in hand, flame flickering in the night air, wincing as the material brushed her pained skin, and Wendy would have done the same if she could have, the pain of hound teeth skittered through her mind, a remembering of it.

The girl had nothing on her to clean the wound, had nothing but silk bandages, and after the slow, tight wrapping, already spotting with red blood, she swung the pack back over her shoulders and marched on, torch high to spread light around her.

It only took a moment for Wendy to follow, the suffocation of the night thick on her even with her core glow, and together they walked forward into the darkness.


End file.
